


Prometheus

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Oneshot, i screwed with the prometheus myth, kenhina - Freeform, olympus au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:13:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4592469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>The boy had been chained to the rock for as long as Hinata could remember. From that first moment of rebellious freedom, that journey into the forbidden, all laughing words and daring voices. They had been told there were monsters, dangerous creatures with deadly powers that would strike them where they stood. But instead, they found Him.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prometheus

The boy had been chained to the rock for as long as Hinata could remember. From that first moment of rebellious freedom, that journey into the forbidden, all laughing words and daring voices. They had been told there were monsters, dangerous creatures with deadly powers that would strike them where they stood. But instead, they found Him – barely clothed, hair wild and windswept, face downturned. The first sighting had brought whispers, low voices and unsure footsteps. They were close enough to be audible, but the figure, the boy, did not rise. At his wrist and angles were heavy chains of metal, thick and weather worn, held by spikes driven into the rock.

“Who is he?” came the ripple through the crowd. “Why is he there?”

Hinata wondered too, hoped for answers. It was one of the oldest who stepped forward into the silence, voice long and low.

“He’s always been there. For years and years and years.” 

A shock of breath, questions of “How long?” met with an upraised hand and a small shake of a head. The speaker, Daichi, answered as he could. “I can’t say exactly. But he was here when my father came to this place, and his father before him. They call him The Boy On The Rock.’

 Hinata couldn’t help but feel that a figure so mysterious deserved a better title. A real name, the sort that could be whispered through midnight air, across fading coals.

 Now here he was again, dark trees overhead and trodden down earth underfoot, gazing at the rise before him. There had been people to try this before, those who got close enough they could all but reach out and touch the hair that hung in hanks about a face. A not insignificant part of Hinata had thought perhaps he would be gone, vanished into smoke like dreams so often tend to do. And now here he was, close enough to locate the rise of his chest, the softness of his breath.

 Heart racing, Hinata took another step forward. And another, and another, until they were almost eye to eye, him hunched on his rock and Hinata standing shakily below it.

            “Who – who are you?” he pushed out, words broken and faltering.

 He expected little; perhaps the stirring of a hand, a fluttering of eyelashes. Certainly not for the head to lift, the back straighten and the eyelids flick open to reveal eyes as gold as precious metal. Eyes the colour of ichor. The eyes of a god.

 They regarded him blankly, slow blinks occasionally breaking the draw they seemed to hold over him, that power that made him want to step closer when he knew he should run.

“Who are you?” he asked once more, voice stronger, doing his best to meet that hypnotic gaze.

For a few long moments; silence, then a voice so harsh and stilting it was clear it had been an age since it had last been used.

“Once, they called me Prometheus. That name is dead. I am no-one.”

_Prometheus –_ the name struck a cord, a ringing deep within his soul. It was familiar, important – but Hinata knew with a fierce certainty that it was completely new to him.

Those golden eyes seemed to pull the words from him, tumbling over one another in their quest for freedom.

 “Why – why are you here?”

 His head – Prometheus’ head – tilted, hair momentarily obscuring him from Hinata’s eyes.

 “I defied the orders of Zeus.” Hinata barely had time to register the weight of this statement – disobeyed the orders of _Zeus??_ – before he continued, the roughness of his tone slowly mellowing to something soft and almost … warm.

“I gave your people a gift. A gift that he had chosen to deny you and ordered us to keep for ourselves.” He raised a thin, sun-darkened arm, fingers stretching as far as the rattling chains would let them, thin fingers brushing against Hinata’s hair.

“The gift of fire. You … you must be descended from her. It’s marked you.”

 Self consciously, Hinata raised a hand to his head. He knew his colouring was strange, the bright orange of his hair and the marks across his skin. There was no one else in the village who looked like them; they were unusual, strange.

“Who am I descended from?”

“Her name was Natsu.” He looked almost wistful as he spoke, posture opening and back straightening. “She was as fiery and as beautiful as the month she was named for. I loved her, yet it was the gift I gave her that tore us about. Zeus ordered me to be chained here, to never be able to meet with her again.”

He was gazing at Hinata once again, with eyes deep and dark.

“You look very much like her. Why did you come to me?”

“I –“ the question was far more difficult to answer than it appeared; Hinata himself could not say exactly why. “I was … drawn. I couldn’t help but think of you, I – I felt like I knew you, though we had never truly met.”

 There was a gentle curve to the others lips as he considered this, and Hinata couldn’t help but think that – in a way wild and powerful – he looked beautiful.

“The fire burns strongly in you. Perhaps, it is time …” the last words were said almost to himself. He seemed to consider them for a few long moments, before abruptly reaching down and wrenching a single peg that held him, from the rock. The metal, brittle with age and weather, snapped, a clear sound ringing through the air. He repeated this action thrice, as Hinata watched on, heat racing, blood loud in his ears. He knew this was important, a monumental turn of events.

Finally, sharded metal dangling from his wrists, hair blowing across his face, the boy rose to his feet, standing tall as he regarded Hinata gently.

“Will you come with me?” he asked, voice lilting.

Slowly, suddenly, Hinata found himself nodding, breath hitching as he realised just what he was doing. With a soft smile, his companion turned, facing the burning sunset, a fiery silhouette in Hinata’s vision.

 “Then come. I will show you wonders.”


End file.
